


Awful Wild Despairing

by Razzaroo



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzaroo/pseuds/Razzaroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He remembers how it felt when the demon had started to pick him apart and the sick shame afterwards that his only thoughts had been about himself, even as he’d felt it unravelling Matthew and Opal and Chainsaw and even his dream deer.</p>
<p>I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna die"</p>
<p>Ronan has a moment of catharsis after the events of The Raven King</p>
<p>[Fic for Pynch Week, day #5. Theme is memory lane/catharsis]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awful Wild Despairing

They lie together after it’s all done.

Ronan wanders the fields of the Barns for a time before he pitches down into the cool grass, rolling onto his back to look up at the sky, which was starting to turn dark, the clouds pink where the setting sun touches them. He lies there alone for a while, Adam standing apart from him, until Ronan crumbles. Tears make his face hot and sticky and that’s when Adam joins him, lying wordlessly beside him because there are times when nothing can be said, when words can’t patch a hurt. Instead, he uses his hands, gentle and hesitant, fingers circling Ronan’s wrist.

_I’m here,_ his actions say, _you aren’t alone_

“How will I tell them?” Ronan says eventually. His voice is thick and sounds strange in his own ears, “Our mom is dead. And if it wasn’t for me, it wouldn’t have happened.”

Adam wets his mouth, “You didn’t send a demon into Cabeswater.”

“No but I sent my mom there. I left her there. Everything started to go wrong and I left her there.”

“She would have been asleep otherwise.”

“The ley line would still be there.” Ronan curls his hand into a fist against the earth, “I could have dreamt a new Cabeswater for her.”

Adam says nothing and Ronan looks to see him studying the night sky. He follows Adam’s gaze and manages to pick out Ursa Minor, follow along the tail to find the pole star.

When he was eight years old and Niall had been away, Aurora had taken the three of them out into the meadows. He remembered Matthew had twisted his ankle on a tree root that day and Declan had piggy backed him all the way, despite Aurora insisting he’d be too heavy. She’d sat with them on the grass and had pointed out all the constellations, telling them the stories of Pegasus and Orion, of Heracles and Andromeda. Whilst Niall had always been the best story teller, there had been something beautiful about the way Aurora told stories; Niall had done it for show, Aurora had filled every word with love.

His mother is gone. The time she’d been sleeping had been hard but there’d always been a hope that she’d open her eyes, she’d wake up and smile and some small part of the world before Niall’s death would come back.

Adam squeezes his wrist, “Ronan.”

“I didn’t tell Declan she was awake,” he says, “The last time he saw her, she was comatose.”

Adam lets out a long, slow breath, “Jesus, Ronan.”

Ronan knows he should have. He should have at least made sure Matthew had told their brother. He’d spent so long hating Declan that he hadn’t even considered telling him, hadn’t thought that anything would happen to Aurora that would keep Declan seeing their mother again.

And just as everything had been starting to look up…

He pulls away from Adam and goes to the other end of the field. Adam sits but doesn’t follow him. Far behind him, he can see lights on in the house, the windows becoming golden eyes that look out on an empty kingdom. There’s a weight on his shoulders that he can’t shake off and his knees buckle.

He remembers how it felt when the demon had started to pick him apart and the sick shame afterwards that his only thoughts had been about himself, even as he’d felt it unravelling Matthew and Opal and Chainsaw and even his dream deer.

_I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna die_

He screams and it’s an inhuman sound. It’s raw and it tears his throat, full of fire and grief. It’s grief for his mother and for the ghost of his father and his brothers who only have each other. It’s for Gansey and the Glendower that never was and for Cabeswater and all the lost dreams in it. It’s for Blue’s eye and for Noah, murdered for nothing and lost to the ley line.

He looks to see Adam standing where he’d been left, hesitant; he approaches slowly, as if Ronan will startle and run if he comes too quickly. He extends a hand and Ronan takes it; he’s warm and real and his touch is so full of the future.

“Feel better?” Adam asks and there’s a touch of a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. Ronan wants to kiss it.

“Yeah,” Ronan says and his hold on Adam’s hand tightens, “For now.”

He follows where Adam leads, ready to leave the evening behind them, leave his awful wild despairing to the cool wind that runs down the meadows.

It’s all over.

They can begin again.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Henry Lawson's poem "Past Caring" because I kind of had Jackie Oates's recording of it on loop while I was writing this


End file.
